


things you said under the stars and in the grass

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Series: Things you said, things I said [6]
Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We can make new ones”</p><p>And the way she beams at you is enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	things you said under the stars and in the grass

“My father taught me that when the old humans still lived they used to tell stories about those” She says and you look at her from the spot you have been seated in ever since you have arrived at the clearing, curious and still not wanting to be obvious about it.

Your questions are soon enough answered though as you realize that she is looking at the starts that titillate above you, her eyes directed at the twinkling dots you had never really thought a lot about.  Perhaps when you had been a child but you have put walls in that part of your memories and you don’t plan on take those out. However she is still pointing at the dots so your own eyes go from her eyes to her hands, her prone figure shadowed by the small fire she had been feeding for half an hour now.

And you are unable to stop yourself from smiling and she catches you because, of course, she needed to catch you and even if Wil will probably arrive soon with something he will call “dinner” you keep looking at her as you hug your knees and try to seem detached.

Which you aren’t and she knows it.

“What kind of stories?”

And so she tells you about scorpions and animals that shouldn’t exist and heroes and gods and she talks so much that Wil comes back and they dinner and the boys go to sleep with a groan, unable to understand what she is telling you in soft whispers, drawing in the palm of your hand the pictures of the figures you are unable to see.

And then she stops talking and sighs and admits she doesn’t remember any more tales but it doesn’t matter because you are completely entranced by her and so you smile and nod and shrug.

“We can make new ones”

And the way she beams at you is enough.


End file.
